Page 68 of When Ben Loved Tim

“I hate previews,” he says. “They always last so damn long.”

“Agreed,” I reply, cringing at the terrible music. My attention wanders to one of my favorite views. Tim has a great profile. His nose is strong and angular, like a Roman sculpture. The rest of him is nicely chiseled too. I love the way his chest presses against the dress shirt. I’d like to follow the trail of buttons, undoing each until they reach his jeans, and I wouldn’t stop there.

I lean close to him and whisper, “How fast can you come?”

He looks over at me in shock. “What?”

“How long would it take?”

He shrugs. “On my own? Like, if I’m in a hurry?”

“Yeah.”

“A few minutes.”

“What about right now?”

He stares at me. Then he laughs. “You’re crazy.”

“I’m dead serious. Whip it out.”

He looks around, seeming to realize just how alone we are. Groups of people are scattered in the rows ahead of us, but none of them are likely to notice, even if they all stood suddenly and turned around. Tim starts scrabbling at his jeans to get them open. Once they are, he looks around once more before lifting his hips and pulling the front of his underwear down, letting the elastic band rest beneath his balls. I’m pleased to see that he’s already at full mast. I start with my hand, feeling apprehensive about the unseeing audience. Nobody catches the scent of spontaneous sex, so I slide out of my seat and position myself between his legs before I take him in my mouth.

From then on, all I can think about is earning my reward. I’m vaguely aware of the previews going by. I can get myself off in a few minutes too, so if I’m not mistaken, he’s taking his time and enjoying himself. When one of those loud demos that highlight the theater’s sound system starts to play, his hand pushes down on my head as his hips begin to buck. I taste the salty sweetness of his come and refuse to let a single drop go to waste. I’m still slurping greedily a minute later as he quietly whimpers and attempts to push me away.

“Benjamin!” he hisses at last, pleading with me to stop.

I swallow and return to my seat. Then I take a sip of soda, batting my eyelashes at him innocently as I suck on the straw.

He laughs, and when the movie’s opening theme starts to play, leans close to whisper, “Need me to return the favor?”

“Nope,” I say, shaking my head with a smile. “I’m happy.”

For more than one reason: I’m on a date with my dream guy. I feel like we understand each other better, thanks to the conversation we had at dinner. And I absolutely loved getting to blow him. There’s another perk too, one that didn’t occur to me until now, but as I watch him grin and toss a kernel of popcorn into his mouth, I know that Krista won’t be able to compete. Not in a million years.

Chapter Fourteen

Allison and I take turns sighing dreamily as we drift down the hallway to my next class. We’re both falling in love. The symptoms are all too obvious: drawn-out exhalations, random giggles, and spontaneous declarations that are completely off topic.

“Tim walked me to my door after our date,” I say without being prompted. “And he kissed me, even though the porch light was on.”

“Aww!” Allison says, clutching at her heart. “That’s so sweet!”

“Yeah,” I say with a guffaw.

We take turns sighing as we round a corner.

“Ronnie wants a big family,” Allison informs me out of the blue.

“What he’sreallysaying is that he wants to have lots of sex,” I tease.

“Hey, he’s good with kids!” she says, shoving me playfully. “You should’ve seen him at the park we went to. When a little boy scraped his knee and started crying, Ronnie ran right over to cheer him up. He didn’t even hesitate.”

“Thatishot,” I admit.

“He’s got a younger brother and sister.” Allison smiles. “I’ve been trying to think of what we’ll call our kids.”

“Tim is a great name for a boy,” I suggest.